ami's writing archive

Dean/Mary/Sam, Dean/Mary - E - 1249 words

for the prompt:

The spirit of Christmas is when you drunkenly DP your mom after drinking too much spiked eggnog and hate yourself the next morning, like all family gatherings.

sorry, this got super angsty but eh--enjoy?

The smoke stings in Dean's eyes, the smell of burning flesh sharp in his nose. Beside him, Sam is crying, really crying, tears and snot and everything, like he hadn't spent the majority of his life hating Dad.

His Dad. The only person in his life who ever really--

Dean swallows against the rising emotion, watches the flames dance and lick over what used to be his tether, the only anchor keeping him from completely losing himself in this life.

A memory flashes in his mind: a lazy day, years ago, just him and Dad in some trailer, laying low for a couple of weeks, practically on top of each other the whole time with how cramped it was, and it was nice and easy and Dad was--Dad was good for once, and Dean was whipping up some dinner and Dad had come up behind him, hands on Dean's hips, peeking over his shoulder, with a rumbled, "Smells good, baby," and Dean had smiled, leaned back, into Dad and had hummed, and said, "Five more minutes," and Dad had pressed a kiss to his cheek before setting the table for them.

Sam barely holds back a sob, tears still streaming down his face, like he cared. "Before--before he--did he say anything to you? About anything?"

Dean shakes his head, his thoughts still somewhere in the past, somewhere in a stuffy trailer in Arizona, with Dad behind him on the only bed, his fingers tracing lazy circles on Dean's hip, his breath hot and smelling of cigarettes and whiskey, the stubble on his jaw rubbing the sensitive skin of Dean's neck, their skin sticky, their dicks spent. Dad's voice, low and rumbly, the words a little slurred, as he absent-mindedly played with the ring on Dean's finger, "You'll be my wife one day." He can almost feel the hotness of the flush it had sent rushing up to his cheeks until he realizes it's the heat of the flames.

Sam is still looking at him, teary-eyed, like his loss is somehow the same as Dean's.

One day echoes in his mind and his heart aches with the memory, with the realization that one day will never come. That the ring currently on his finger is the only one he'll ever have. You'll be my wife one day. Did he say anything? One day. Anything? It all swims together as the fire keeps burning, vicious and unrelenting.

"No," Dean says. "Nothing."

💜

aaaaah, thank you!!! have some schmoopy fluff

Jeff wakes to the smell of bacon and an empty bed. No dog. No Jensen. He drags himself out of bed, makes his back pop with a big stretch and follows the smell downstairs. Jensen is at the stove, looking adorable in nothing but his boxers and Jeff's Kiss the Cook apron that he always makes fun of.

"Hey," Jeff says, voice still sleep-rough, as he winds his arms around Jensen's body, nuzzles into his neck. "Mmh, morning," Jensen replies as he flips the bacon sizzling in the skillet. "Coffee's about done." Jeff hums in reply, mouthes lazily at the side of Jensen's neck until Jensen drops the spatula and leans back into him.

The only thing stopping him from taking it any further is the dog impatiently pushing its nose into the hollow of his knee. He drops a kiss behind Jensen's ear, then pulls away to bend down and cuddle the dog good morning. He can feel Jensen's eyes on him as he coos sweet nothings and gives belly-rubs.

"I've gotta go in a little while, and I need to take a shower before I go. Can't show up smelling like this," Jensen says as he plates eggs and bacon, fills a mug with coffee and sets it all down at the island.

It's only as he rises that Jeff realizes there's only one plate of breakfast sitting there. "You gotta go right now?"

Jensen sidles up to him, sans apron, leans up to steal a kiss, and Jeff pulls him in flush just to get that sharp intake of breath, the nip to his lip, before Jensen pulls away. "Have your breakfast, I'm gonna go jump into the shower real quick."

Jeff hangs on to Jensen's hand, says, "I could join you," and Jensen laughs, lets himself be reeled in for another kiss. "Eat your breakfast," he murmurs against Jeff's mouth before extricating himself out of his embrace.

Jeff watches him go, then settles at the island, digging into his breakfast, dog at his feet. Upstairs, the shower starts up, and Jeff entertains himself with mental image of Jensen naked in his shower.

He leaves the dishes in the sink, then opens the french doors to let the dog out, and settles in the deck chair on the patio with his coffee mug and a cigarette, enjoying the morning sun on his face.

"Living your best life, I see."

Jeff blinks open his eyes, looks up at Jensen, looking all handsome in slacks and a dress shirt. "You smell good, sweetheart," he says and Jensen offers him a smile, angles Jeff's head up with a hand in his hair for a kiss before he playfully shoves him back into the deck chair.

"I smell like you. I gotta go now, I'll see you tonight?" Jensen says and Jeff hums in reply, lets his eyes rove over Jensen's body, the nice fit of his pants, the way his shirt stretches enticingly over the breadth of his shoulders. Jensen is halfway back inside when Jeff whips around in his chair. "Wait… is that my shirt?"

Jensen throws his head back on a laugh, stops just long enough to say, "You mind? I swear you'll get it back. Might even let you strip me out of it tonight." Jeff sinks back into his chair with groan at the tease, Jensen's laughter echoing through his house all the way to the front door.

hi hi rose thanks for this, so lovely!

John is tired when he makes it back to the house they are currently squatting in. It's late and the day was mostly unsuccessful and all he wants is a shower and a drink and maybe some quality time with his baby girl.

He lets himself inside, careful not to disturb the salt line too much, and the door creaks and almost immediately, Deanna appears in the hall as if summoned, blond hair flying, eyes sparkling, mouth pulled into a big smile.

"Daddy," she says, and John just about manages to drop his duffle before Deanna comes flying into his arms. She smells like flowers, girly and soft, and John breathes her in as he holds her. "I have a surprise for you," she whispers into his ear, and he blames the shiver down his spine on her hot breath on his cold skin.

He sets her down just as Sam appears in the hall, a frown on his face, lips pulled into a sulk. "Sammy," he greets, and Sam rolls his eyes, grunts out, "Dad," before he thunders up the stairs and a door slams.

"What's with him?" John asks, and Deanna shrugs and says, "I don't know, teenage stuff," like she hadn't cleared 18 just a few weeks earlier herself.

John hums in agreement, then shrugs out of his coat to hang it on the hooks by the door. "What d'you say I get cleaned up and then you can show me your suprise?"

She smiles at him, all sweet, leans up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Sounds perfect," she says before skipping up the stairs.

John watches her go with a fond smile, then makes for the bathroom. He showers with military efficency because the water pressure sucks and the water's only tepid, then finds himself some clean clothes from the pile Deanna left out for him. They smell like cheap laundromat detergent and are a little stiff, but at least they are clean.

Deanna is waiting for him by his bedroom door already. She's still in the same zip-up hoodie, a pair of sweat pants. It's only when they are both inside his bedroom with the door closed that he allows her to wind her arms around his neck and press her lips to his. He holds her close, kisses her thoroughly until she gasps softly against his mouth.

She pulls back, places her palm on his chest with a little pressure. "Sit," she says, that smile back on her face and John raises an eyebrow, but sinks down on the edge of the bed anyway.

Deanna toys with the zipper of her hoodie, bites her lip as she draws it down halfway. There's a peak of--John wants to say lace, black lace, and he sucks in a breath.

"Baby girl," he says, voice rough, and color rises in her cheeks as she pulls the zipper the rest of the way down and pushes the hoodie off her shoulders before she takes a step closer. She's--beautiful, the black lace bra so dark against her creamy-pale skin.

John reaches out his hand, pulls her closer the second her palm slides into his. He mouthes a kiss to her sternum, and her hand runs into his hair, strokes gently. The flush has spread down her neck and to her chest by the time John pulls back, runs his thumb along the edge of the bra. "That my surprise?"

She nods, arches a little to chase his touch. "Do you like it?"

He traces a finger along the delicate lace line hugging her tits, and she shivers, her breath coming a little quicker when John slips a finger under the wire, strokes the sensitive underside.

"I love it, baby, you're beautiful."

The way she preens for the compliment is almost as enticing as any piece of lingerie could ever be.

en pointe - a j2 ballet au

JP Ballet Academy is the most competitive ballet program in the country and Jensen can't wait to finally work with his idol and get a chance to compete for a spot in the academy's prestigious company.

He'd do pretty much anything to achieve his goals.

Read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester/John Winchester Additional Tags: Love Bites, Established Relationship, Frottage Summary:

<3

It's late when Jeff makes it home. The house is dark and the dogs barely lift their heads to greet him even as their tails thump against the hardwood floor. He gives them a quick head scratch before making his way upstairs.

The bedroom door is ajar, and Jeff sneaks a peek at Jensen's sleeping form before he goes to the guest bathroom at the other side of the floor. He leaves his clothes on the floor, takes a shower and brushes his teeth, the tiptoes into the bedroom, careful not to wake Jensen.

He almost makes it. Almost.

Jeff curses when he stubs his toe on the bedpost. In bed, Jensen rouses, blinking up at him as he yawns, then croaks a sleepy, "Hey."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, sweetheart."

Jensen hums and reaches his hand out into Jeff's direction, makes a grabby motion. "C'mere."

Jeff gets into bed, takes Jensen's hand and presses a kiss to the back of it before he settles in and tugs Jensen closer.

Their mouths meet slowly, in a lazy, sleepy kiss. Jeff smiles when Jensen pulls away with a soft sigh and shifts closer, pulling Jeff's arm over his side.

Jeff runs his fingertips gently up and down Jensen's spine, and it doesn't take long for Jensen's breathing to even out as he falls asleep again under Jeff's ministrations.

Dad is usually a light sleeper, easily startled awake.

But tonight, with the help of Jim and Jack, he's out cold. It's been happening more often, ever since Sammy has left.

Those are the nights Deanna sleeps with one ear and one eye open. Because she knows that with the deeper sleep come the nightmares.

She startles awake in the middle of the night to Dad tossing and turning, murmuring in his sleep. It's hard to watch, and even harder to keep from reaching out to shake him awake. She has learned that one the hard way, the shiner barely faded from where Dad had lashed out when she had tried to wake him last week.

So she just watches and waits, waits until Dad sits up with a gasp, eyes wide and wet, before she shifts to sit on the edge of her bed and says, "It's alright, Dad."

He looks at her, but she can tell he's still somewhere else. "Mary," he rasps, and she swallows against the lump in her throat.

"It's me, Dad, it's Deanna," she says as she gently reaches out and squeezes his knee. She knows he doesn't mean it, that he's still caught in his dream.

He jerks, blinks, then rushes an exhale. "Deanna."

She nods, slowly gets up to join him on the other bed. She rests her head on his shoulder, lacing her fingers with his.

"I'm here," she says softly, "I'm not going anywhere." Not like Mom. Not like Sam.

Dad kisses her forehead, sighs, "Yeah," in that scratchy, sleepy voice.

DeanJohn + "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Dean tiptoes in, closes the motel room door as quietly as he can. Unfortunately for him, Dad is a light sleeper.

Dad shifts on the bed he's crashing on, yawns and knuckles at his eye.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Dean rushes to apologize but to his surprise Dad waves him off, looks him up and down with bleary eyes.

"Was she pretty?" Dad asks, and Dean feels the color rise to his cheeks as he quickly straightens his collar and rakes a hand through his hair.

"Yessir," he says. It's the truth, the girl was very pretty. She was also nothing but a distraction. At best.

"Come on" Dad says, voice thick with sleep. Dean steps closer, barely surpresses a shiver for the hand skirting up the back of his thigh. "Come to bed."

Dean glances at the empty bed a few feet away, the one that used to be Sam's bed, before he looks back down at Dad. "You sure?"

Dad hums softly, and Dean strips out of his clothes quickly, no longer mad that the girl got him all riled up with a make-out session in the car and then refused to let him get his dick wet.

Dad lifts the sheets and Dean slides in, back to Dad's chest, Dad's warm breath fanning over the back of his neck.

featuring a hook-up, size kink, age difference, bottom jdm

ok, this is more dean&john than deanjohn but hope you enjoy anyway. warning for underage but nothing sexual happens.

Dad comes home in the middle of the night. Dean is wide awake the second the key slides into the lock while Sammy keeps snoring softly on the other bed, face buried in his pillow.

He's sitting up and knuckling at his eyes by the time Dad shrugs out of his jacket with a heavy sigh. Dad walks over, squeezes Dean's ankle through the sheets before jerking his chin into the direction of the bathroom.

Dean nods in acknowledgement, slides out of bed as silently as possible to follow Dad to the bathroom. He blinks for the brightness when he enters, yawns, then turns his attention to his dad. A quick once-over does not reveal any obvious injuries and Dean relaxes a fraction as he sinks down onto the closed toilet seat.

Dad starts stripping down, leaves his dirty clothes in a pile on the floor before he steps into the tub. Dean can still make out his form through the flimsy shower curtain, can see him scratching his nails through his hair under the sad trickle of the shower.

Dean picks at a cuticle as he listens to Dad tell him about the hunt, provides details about how their week has been when Dad asks. He's tired, and Dad's voice, low and rumbly, has his eyes drooping for a moment. He blinks them back open when the water shuts off, and the curtain rattles on the rod.

Dad wraps a towel around his waist, looks at him expectantly, and Dean hums, part answer, part question, and prays that whatever Dad had said was covered by it.

He startles when Dad takes a step closer and grips his chin, tilts Dean's head back, into the light. "What the hell is this?" A calloused thumb presses at the tender skin around the cut on his cheek.

Dean swallows. "It's nothing, sir. It was an accident."

Dad looks him straight into the eyes, says, "Dean," warningly, and Dean can feel the heat rise to his cheeks.

"I cut myself trying to shave," he mumbles out, and Dad huffs in surprise. When Dean looks back up at him, Dad's eyes are sparkling with amusement, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

"And what, pray tell, where you trying to shave, boy?" he asks, stroking his knuckle down Dean's smooth cheek almost tenderly.

Part of Dean bristles, he's had some stubble, thank you very much. But in the end, he just ducks his head in embarrassment, murmurs something intelligible.

Dad's palm cradles his face, gently tilts his head back up. "I'll show you how to tomorrow, yeah?"

Dean nods, and Dad pats his cheek before releasing him.

"Go back to bed, I'll be along in a few."

Dean rises, squeezes past Dad, says, "Ew," when some water drops from Dad's hair onto his sleep shirt.

Dad reaches to ruffle his hair, drips some more onto Dean, and Dean winds himself out of the tight space with an indignant little noise.

He closes the bathroom door quietly, makes his way back over to his bed. He strips out of his shirt, and slips back under the sheets.

The bathroom door opens again a few minutes later, and the light clicks off.

She was temptation personified, sitting on her heels on the bed in her little sleep shorts and the loose tank top that allowed him just a glimpse of cleavage, a hint of side boob whenever she moved her arm to brush the hair out of her eyes.

Desire pulsed through him, making his skin feel hot and his pants too tight, and he licked his lips before he took a step closer and lifted her head with a single finger under her chin. God, she was beautiful and innocent, and part of him was itching to ruin her, to pull her hair back in his fist and push himself between those soft, pink lips until her eyes would tear up and her face would turn red and she would splutter sloppy-wet around his cock—

He swallowed the sick, twisted urge and brushed the hair out of her face instead, gently cradling her cheek in his palm. She was fragile in his hold, so fragile, the breath stuttering out of her just for that little contact, hot-damp on his wrist. He traced her cheekbone with his thumb, softly rubbed down her cheek to the soft plush of her mouth. Her lips parted slightly at the touch, and John sucked in a breath and curled his free hand into a fist against his thigh to stop himself from palming this throbbing cock.

It was even more intoxicating that she didn't even know how sexy she was. Those big green eyes flicked up to his as he pushed his thumb between her lips, dragging the lower lip down a bit, running the pad over her teeth. She swallowed audibly and then the tip of her tongue touched to his thumb.

It might have been only by accident but his body didn't care. Arousal thrummed through him, head to cock to toe. "Open up for me, sweetheart," he heard himself say, voice something raw and primal, and her jaw went slack in his palm just like that and he had to close his eyes for a second to keep himself under control.

"Good girl," he said, and her cheeks pinked and she chased after his touch when he pulled his hand away. Her mouth was half-open and her breath was coming a little faster and he swore he could feel the soft warm huff of it on his cock.

He allowed himself a brief squeeze of the bulge in his jeans to relieve a little tension before he focused on the pretty girl on his bed again. He traced along the edge of her teeth again, top and bottom before pushing his index finger onto her tongue. It wriggled against him, hot and wet, and he bit back a groan.

Two fingers, and she was swallowing nervously as he pushed them a little deeper, her pretty little mouth closing around the second knuckle, teeth grazing the skin before she relaxed again and suckled on reflex, tongue soft on the underside of his fingers.

His cock twitched. He pulled his fingers back a little before pushing them back in, into that soft heat, over that wriggling tongue. Out, in, out, in. Those big eyes still on him, and he held her gaze as he fucked his fingers slowly into her mouth, watched those eyes water when he pushed in a little too far. She gagged, and his eyes nearly crossed for the flex of the back of her throat around his fingertips.

"Sorry," she gasped when he pulled his fingers back a bit, the sight of his skin slick with her spit making his cock throb.

"Doing so good, sweetie," he panted, dropping a kiss to her forehead before pushing his fingers back into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her breath hot and choppy over the back of his hand.

John closed his eyes, finally let that groan building in his chest escape, and she made the softest noise for that, just a whisper of a vibration against his fingertips, but it was enough to make his cock jerk in his pants and when his baby girl sucked his fingers in deeper again, when the back of her throat started to spasm with the threat of a gag, his muscles locked and his balls throbbed and he came in his pants just imagining would it feel like on his cock.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Boyfriend Experience, businessman!Jeff, escort!Jensen, blurred lines, Pining, Safer Sex, Caretaking Summary:

so i had a bit of time and played a little in this year's spn masquerade (@spn-masquerade)

some of this isn't my usual jam but uhm, yeah, it's what the muse latched onto so enjoy, i guess? (and please don't judge me too harshly lmao)

ao3 series link

or one by one if you prefer to pick and choose

wisteria lane - J2 (background jdm/jackles), AU-neighbors, cheating, size kink

love me like you do - jdm/jackles, daddy kink, praise kink, voice kink (ao3 account required)

master class - jdm/jackles, 2nd person pov, oral (lots and lots of it)

pieces of me - dean winchester/teen!amara - underage, manipulation, slight dubcon, size difference, age difference, p in v

after hours - J2, bartender!jared, dancer!jensen, mild h/c, pining, frottage

caught up in this rush - jdm/jackles, a/b/o, arranged mating, age gap, heat sex

kings and queens - jensen/danneel, D/s undertones, powerplay, pegging, comeplay (ao3 account required)

walk on the wild side - jdm/jackles, a/b/o, class differences, age differences, knotting

all of them are rated E/18+, the underage warning on the series is ONLY for the amara one though!

i have also reopened prompts so if anything tickles your fancy let me know!!

xo ami

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters: Samantha Smith Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Class Differences, Age Difference, Mating Cycles/In Heat Series: Part 2 of the wild side Summary:

Jeff is kicking out the last stragglers in the early hours of the morning, ready to finally call it a night, when in the silence outside a car door falls shut. Four Alpha heads turn immediately at the sound, the whiff of—ripe Omega that comes with it.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Jealousy, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Mutual Pining, Very Blurred Lines Series: Part 2 of can’t buy me love Summary:

“I am capable of separating business and pleasure, sweetheart.”

for @wastemanjohn and @lovetransaction who foolishly asked for this lol

Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John Winchester/Mary Winchester Additional Tags: Pegging, Pre-Canon Summary: